Greatest Treasure
by dmf1984
Summary: For many different reasons, some spoken aloud and some not, Gavin Doran considers Olivia to be his greatest treasure. In the aftermath of the Drake's annual Halloween party, he has to decide how best to protect his wife from his enemies, and from himself.
1. Chapter 1

"**Greatest Treasure"**

A 666 Park Avenue fan-fic/AU

A/N: Although circumstances may change as (or if) Season 1 goes forward, the performances of TOQ and VW are far more convincing to me than any others on the show. They come across as being a "together couple" through thick and thin, although not always motivated out of the goodness of their hearts. We'll see. I have slightly modified/re-ordered the chain of events as we saw them in the last few episodes.

Summary: For many different reasons, some spoken aloud and some not, Gavin Doran considers Olivia to be his greatest treasure. In the aftermath of the Drake's annual Halloween party, he has to decide how best to protect his wife from his enemies, and from himself.

Category: General/Romance

Rating: T

Olivia Doran stared pensively out across the nighttime skyline of New York, seeing all of the familiar tall skyscrapers but somehow not recognizing any of them. From the terrace of their Park Avenue penthouse apartment, the ground level and the people there going on with their lives, seem so far away. She sighed, mentally chiding herself, and feeling a bit confused: Dr. Todd had assured her that she merely had had too much to drink on an empty stomach, but a disturbing lunchtime encounter with this stranger, this creepy Victor Shaw, had led her to seek out a second opinion. Her almost forgotten mug of herbal tea is cooling rapidly in the night air. She took a sip, her actions automatic and savors the lightly sweet mixture of chamomile, ginger and honey. Her nutritionist always recommended this particular tea for its calming properties, but at the moment, peace and calm were eluding her completely.

It is well after 1:00 a.m. Behind her, Olivia heard her husband stepping out from their penthouse's open double-glazed doors, treading lightly in his custom-made Italian leather shoes, and he removed his jacket to cover her bare shoulders against the chill of the night. The initial blood test by Dr. Todd Scott had revealed a high BAC and also residual chloroform in her system. Olivia only learned about the "recreational" chloroform in the second CBC analysis, still wondering why neither man had let her in on that particular secret.

"Olivia? Are you alright my dear?" His deep voice is soft as his hands gently grasp her upper arms through the fabric of his suit coat. Gavin placed a kiss on the side of her forehead and she instinctively leans into him, a familiar and comforting gesture for both of them. Her body reacts before her brain does, seeking its own solace as she fits into his left side, her head automatically cradling just below his broad shoulder.

She sighed and shook her head slightly, cupping the ceramic mug in both of her hands to gather its dwindling warmth, two of her slender fingers resting in the white handle. "Nearly, I just can't seem to shake this headache." A pain had settled like a vise just above her eyes and at the back of her neck.

They had already had some discussion that afternoon about Gavin concealing things from her (regarding the events of the Halloween party and her brief kidnapping), but some things had gone unsaid and unresolved.

"Mm, I'm sorry to hear that," he murmurs, turning her slightly toward him so that he can look into her beautiful face. "Should I call Dr. Scott to come to see you again? Maybe he can give you something to help you relax tonight." Doran rubbed her arms, giving her elbow a squeeze to let her know that he is there for her. He had apologized earlier, assuring her that he would not keep that sort of information from her again.

Olivia managed a small smile, seeing the genuine concern in her husband's deep green eyes, and remembering that it was _that_ _look_ that had made her fall for him in the first place. The smell of his aftershave wafted up from the material of his jacket and she still found him completely intoxicating. The name of _Drakkar Noir_ jumped into her mind as she felt her smile at last reaching her eyes. Her heart actually skipped a beat.

"No Gavin, thank you dear, don't trouble him this late. He's already done so much for us. I'll be fine." She pauses to take a sip of the herbal tea. "A massage and a good night's sleep will put me right as rain, I'm sure." In her head, she also said _and a good stiff drink_, but alcohol of any kind had no appeal for her then.

Gavin chuckled quietly and she could feel the rumble of it deep in his chest where her arm rested against him. "I can arrange that for you." His eyes are twinkling rather naughtily in the reflected moonlight, and one eyebrow rises in a question. "Shall I call Francesca or Lars this time?"

Despite her slightly worried frown, she gives him a soft laugh in reply. "Fran, please. I'm not up for Swedish massage tonight."

He immediately smiles down at her, enfolding one sturdy arm around her back and guiding her inside. She accepts a quick kiss on the lips and lets him take the empty mug from her hand, placing it on the glass end table nearby. "Why don't you go slip into something more comfortable for your favorite masseuse and I will coordinate for her to come up right now?"

Any protest she had was completely drowned out when he kissed her again. Olivia knew that Francesca lived on the third floor of the Drake and seemed to keep odd hours with her studies anyway.

"Thank you, Gavin," she said, caressing his cheek. "Thank you for looking out for me."

He returned the gentle caress, kissing her fingertips as he pulled his cell phone from his trousers pocket. "It's what a man does for the woman he loves."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Gavin stepped into the vaulted foyer just outside of their master bedroom suite, returning from his brief visit to the Department of Corrections establishment on the other side of the river. He brought a finger to his lips, asking Francesca with his glance to keep quiet. He slipped out of his shoes, leaving them carelessly on the floor by the antique hallway chair. His tie and jacket already hung from the mahogany coat rack nearby.

Francesca smiled back and nodded as she continued to massage his wife's naked back and shoulder blades, working the warmed oil into taut muscles. Gavin removed his vest and rolled up the sleeves of his gleaming white dress shirt as he padded silently over to the padded massage table; he showed the young masseuse a pair of folded bills that he placed by the white and ivory-themed floral arrangement as he passed it. A two thousand dollar house call was more than worth the loss of a few hours of sleep to the struggling college student.

The image of a predator stalking its prey by candlelight came unbidden to Francesca's mind as he approached but she shrugged it away in the warmth of his approving smile. Still mute, she let his broad hands take the place of hers, as Olivia lay prone on the elevated bench. Her hair was drawn up in a beige terry cloth wrap, and her nakedness was covered tastefully with a crisp linen sheet.

_Thank you, Francesca_, he mouthed without sound, nodding his head toward the door and her well-earned fee; he was polite in his dismissal. The girl winked and brought a finger to her own lips. She smiled once more as she tiptoed from the penthouse.

Gavin quietly drew a deep breath as he massaged Olivia's back, allowing his fingers to spread across her skin and he moved firmly up to her shoulders and down again. His gaze was touched with true appreciation as he compared the paleness of the top of his hand to the glistening café au lait-color beneath it. Olivia never had any tan lines, anywhere, and he knew this from prior thorough explorations.

"That's lovely, Francesca," came a muffled voice from the head of the massage table. Olivia's face rested in the padded opening, and Gavin grinned when he realized that she was relaxed but not asleep. "And you were right about the tea tree oil scent."

Gavin did not reply as his hands skimmed down her body and he securely grasped her sculptured calf muscles. As long as he had known her, he considered Olivia's legs one of her best features. He licked his lips in anticipation as he mentally counted the thousands of hours he'd spent caressing her bare legs.

The woman groaned a bit when he firmly pressed both thumbs along her instep; first one petite foot and then the other. He was careful not to tickle and he heard her sigh with contentment.

"Thank you for coming up at such an hour too, young lady," said Olivia, raising her head slightly to speak more clearly. In the poor lighting, she did not see her husband attending to her feet and lower legs. "Be sure to tell me if Gavin is not very generous with your tip tonight."

He chuckled softly as he moved back up to her shoulder, leaning down to nip and to taste her bare skin. She started slightly but smirked when she turned and finally saw him there. Gavin bent again to lick and kiss the nape of her neck, and he grunted in satisfaction to feel the gooseflesh rise under his tongue.

"I'm sure he'll be generous, my dear," he commented between kisses, coming in closer when she propped her cheek in one hand, drawing the sheet to not quite cover her breasts when she turned onto her side.

Olivia reached to cup the back of his head when he kissed her again, properly and deeply this time. "You are a sneaky devil, Mr. Doran," she accused with a teasing pout. He shrugged modestly at the compliment.

"Shall I call Francesca back?" she whispered, still teasing him.

Gavin growled, moving in to scoop up her legs, his left arm easily supporting her back. He quieted her with another kiss.

"Perhaps some other time, my dear," he replied in a gravelly voice. "I'm in no mood to share you with anyone right now."

And with that, he carried his wife to their bedroom, locking the door behind them.

Oneshot or TBC?

A/N: I sincerely thank you for reading this far. I'm not sure if the plot bunnies are willing to carry on with the Drake denizens, but we'll see.


	2. Chapter 2

"**Greatest Treasure"**

A 666 Park Avenue fan-fic/AU

A/N: Although circumstances may change now that the network has decided not to continue our new program, the performances of TOQ and VW are far more convincing to me than any others on the show. They come across as being a "together couple" through thick and thin, although not always motivated out of the goodness of their hearts. We'll see. I have slightly modified/re-ordered the chain of events as we saw them in the last few episodes.

It is very difficult to consider the Dorans as being evil all the way through; my take is that they both have many layers upon layers of complexity. It should be fun to peel these "onions", shouldn't it? _Thank you, Donkey. That'll do_.

As we await the last handful of episodes, I think of this story as very, very Alternate Universe. No telling how much conflicting "show canon" information the writers will give us as we unfortunately approach the end after cancellation.

Summary: For many different reasons, some spoken aloud and some not, Gavin Doran considers Olivia to be his greatest treasure. In the aftermath of the Drake's annual Halloween party, he has to decide how best to protect his wife from his enemies, and from himself.

Category: General/Romance

Rating: T for increasing sexual content

**Late**

**Chapter 02/?**

Gavin could not remember a time when he and Olivia ever made love with such passion, power and intensity, even when they first started dating some twenty-five years ago. He knew she was tired and still worried about the events of Halloween night, but he made an even stronger effort to distract her with his attentiveness.

And she responded willingly in kind; he had hoped he would be an effective after-massage remedy for eliminating her headache.

Again and again, he brought her to her climax with his talented lips, tongue, teeth and hands; worshipping her, loving her. A satisfied smile brightened his face when he recalled how frank and sexually demanding she had become, and he was more than happy and able to accommodate her every wish and desire. A rather ironic smile quirked at the corners of his mouth when he thought back to their discussions about soundproofing the walls and doors of their Master bedroom suite when the couple renovated the penthouse four years before. Olivia had convinced him that it was a necessary expense, and they proved its worth again that night. He was glad that he had at long last come around to her way of thinking, so to speak.

Were it not for the state-of-the-art soundproof tiling and insulation, the downstairs neighbors and/or early rising employees might have been rather scandalized by the throaty cries of desire that were heard in the penthouse.

When he finally rose up and settled himself over her lush body, bracing most of his weight on his elbows and slipping easily into her warmth, Gavin was overwhelmed by his feelings of love and adoration for his wife as they moved and became one. He recalled how she exclaimed his name, holding onto him with her legs, urging him on until at last, they collapsed in each other's arms and slept, their deepest needs fully satiated.

The morning light was rising faintly in the east as Gavin turned on his side, checked the clock and went back to watching his gorgeous wife as she breathed, soft and steady. He felt tears gathering and he blinked rapidly to clear them as he lay there. Olivia sighed and he could see her eyes moving under her eyelids; she was deep in a dream.

"I do love you, Gavin," she mumbled breathily, shifting slightly on her pillow as she moved closer to his warmth.

Touched, he leaned in to kiss her on the lips, nuzzling the fragrant softness of her hair. "And I love you, Olivia," he whispered in her ear. "More than anything."

She smiled in her slumber, that quirky, sassy one-sided smile that brought out her dimples and that melted his heart all over again.

He watched her, smiling in her dreams, until he slowly drifted back to sleep.

-/-/-/-/-/-

The insistent buzzing of a cell phone on its "vibrate" setting brought Olivia fully awake and her blue-grey eyes snapped open. Her movements still automatic, she made a small sound of irritation as she fumbled and grabbed it from the night stand to check the caller I.D. Rather than answering it, she quickly thumbed a text message in reply to Roberta, acknowledging their lunch-date later that afternoon to be followed by a hair and nails trip to their favorite salon.

Olivia sat up in bed, stretching cat-like with upraised arms until she flinched when felt sore muscles protesting. She touched one hand instinctively to Gavin's side of the bed, finding it still warm but empty. A secret smile touched her lips when she realized at last that she had been sleeping in the nude, a rare, but not unheard of occurrence, and she understood why her legs still felt rather weak and trembly. She noticed several purplish love bites across the tops of her breasts, and she knew that she had marked Gavin as well.

She closed her eyes, savoring for a moment as her body remembered the previous night with her husband. She also noted with great pleasure that her headache was completely gone.

Olivia reached to the end of the bed and pulled on her black satin robe, smiling again when she spied the pile of clothes on the floor, Gavin's socks, slacks and dress shirt were tucked in among her things and his shoes were nowhere in sight. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she padded around in her bare feet, picking up loose items here and there, gathering them into the white wicker hamper just inside the walk-in closet.

Their spacious bathroom was nearly full of steam as she made her way to the separate toilet, and when she stepped to the sink to wash and dry her hands, she heard unfamiliar strains of classical guitar coming from the shower stall sound system. When she stepped around the tiled half-wall, Olivia saw her husband, nude of course, and shaving his bald scalp as he stood among the six luxurious showerheads. He smiled a welcome as he noticed her reflection in his shaving mirror.

"Good morning, my dear," he said, his smile giving his eyes an impish twinkle as he rinsed foamy soap from the blades. "Did you sleep well?" Gavin customarily preferred to use a disposable safety razor when he shaved in the shower; the straight razor that he used for his facial hair was very likely to slip from his grip.

Olivia chuckled, shaking her head fondly as her brow knitted in mild concern. "You know how well I slept, thank you, darling. Although I should probably request a duller manicure when I go to the salon today; I didn't realize how badly I'd scratched you."

Gavin shrugged, glancing over one shoulder at the red marks and giving her a mischievous wink. In fact, his entire back and buttocks were covered with fingernail scratches, none of them deep enough to draw blood but shocking in their number. Olivia had been vigorous in her orgasmic frenzy.

"It was worth every second," he replied, his voice rumbling contentedly in his chest. His gaze drifted to the light chocolate skin peeking from the plunging neckline of her dressing gown. Two love-bites were visible. "I'd say we were both deeply involved, darling. Do you think it will be cold enough for mock turtleneck sweaters today? Should we cover up the evidence of our proclivities or just let it ride?"

He grinned broadly as her delighted laughter echoed in the bathroom suite. Gavin closed his eyes, ducking his head into the water to rinse and when he stepped back, he wiped his eyes and face with both hands. When he turned, finally soaping his front and chest, Olivia's eyes darkened with renewed desire. Though her husband had just turned sixty that past summer, he was still as fit and virile as a man half his age.

Olivia bit her lower lip and gave herself a slight shake, stepping forward to lean her elbows against the half wall in order to get a better view. Whether it was deliberate or not, her robe slipped open a bit more at the chest.

"I don't recognize this musician," she said, forcing herself to talk about mundane, and non-sexual topics as she eyed his masculinity. "Is he new?"

As Gavin rinsed soap from his body, he felt his own urges rising when he noticed her unconscious reactions to his little exhibition for his wife. "Don't think so. Sonny Lim is a popular guitarist on the Big Island… _Hawaii_," he added, seeing a question in her glance. "The style is called 'slack key'."

"I like it," commented Olivia distractedly, resting her chin in her delicate palm as she continued to watch and appreciate his nakedness.

"I like it, too," Gavin said, stepping over to her and moving closer for a kiss. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue lightly dueled with hers. As they clasped each other's shoulders, Olivia didn't pay much attention until he had already pulled her around the waist-high divider and into the open shower stall with him.

She leaned back slightly as he eased the ruined satin robe from her arms, letting it fall to the floor. "That was my favorite robe, dearest," she said, growing breathless from his intoxicating kisses and his knowing, roving hands.

"Mine too," he murmured into her neck, licking and tasting the skin just below her ear as he guided her through the sprays of steaming water to the back wall. He pushed her firmly, holding her against the cerulean Italian marble as he moved up her jawline to kiss her again.

A soft cry of passion escaped her lips when he lifted one of her legs to wrap it around his thigh, giving him better access. Both of her hands gripped his shoulders for support as he kissed her senseless.

"We're going to be late for lunch with the Mertens," she whispered at last, chuckling slightly at her mild protest to his rare spontaneity.

Gavin pushed himself closer to her, his eyebrow raised sardonically as the steam roiled around them, their bodies glistening. "Oh yes. I would say _very_ late, my dear."

TBC?


	3. Chapter 3

"**Greatest Treasure"**

A 666 Park Avenue fan-fic/AU

A/N: Although circumstances may change now that the network has decided not to continue our new program, the performances of TOQ and VW are far more convincing to me than any others on the show. They come across as being a "together couple" through thick and thin, although not always motivated out of the goodness of their hearts. We'll see. I have slightly modified/re-ordered the chain of events as we saw them in the last few episodes.

It is very difficult to consider the Dorans as being evil all the way through, even with Gavin's walk through St. Thomas' Church and the accompaniment of a revealing soundtrack.

As we await the last handful of episodes, I think of this story as very, very Alternate Universe. No telling how much conflicting "show canon" information the writers will give us as we unfortunately approach the end after cancellation.

Summary: For many different reasons, some spoken aloud and some not, Gavin Doran considers Olivia to be his greatest treasure. In the aftermath of the Drake's annual Halloween party, he has to decide how best to protect his wife from his enemies, and from himself.

Category: General/Romance

Rating: T for increasing sexual content (Plot? What plot?)

**Backseat driver**

**Chapter 03/?**

"So when do you fly back to Colorado, Jim?" asked Gavin as the four companions were saying their goodbyes after lunch. Olivia kissed James Mertens' cheek, and then warmly embraced his wife, Roberta.

"Probably at the weekend. No rush," replied Mertens with an easy-going shrug, smiling broadly as he shook hands with his childhood friend. "Colorado Springs has settled down real estate-wise at least for this quarter. The skiers rarely shop for property when the powder is in good shape; that's more of a summer market."

"Hmm, interesting. I may have to pay you a visit one of these days, Jim," Gavin said, his tone friendly but calculating.

Roberta Mertens swatted his arm, chuckling rather sarcastically as she pushed back shocking snow white hair from her face. "You've been saying that for ages, Gavin darling. You might be pleasantly surprised by what we have out West… it isn't just Cowboys and Indians running amok."

Doran shrugged noncommittally, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. "I'll keep that in mind."

Olivia clapped her hands, making a mild sound of protest to separate her husband from the older woman. "We'll get together later this winter then; enough dickering and shop talk for now, you two. Thank you again for the call, Roberta. I never see you enough!"

As the Mertens headed off toward their waiting limo, Gavin took Olivia's hand, their fingers instinctively intertwining as they made their way across the street to where Gerald and their dark blue Mercedes sedan were waiting. The tall driver, a muscular dark-skinned Bermudan, nodded politely as he helped Mrs. Doran into the spacious back seat and closed the door after her. Though his eyes were shaded behind his sunglasses, Gavin knew that the well-armed security man appreciated the view of his beautiful wife in her sea-green velour workout clothes. He certainly did.

Once inside and seated, Olivia slipped off her gleaming yellow Saucony running shoes and then dug around in the small, insulated cooler for a fresh water bottle. Gavin too, got situated as the driver eased away from the curb, and was reaching for the folded newspaper he'd left in the side pocket. He made a nearly silent sound of irritation, which Olivia caught.

"She means well, honey," said Olivia, gripping his hand where it rested on the light blue leather seat. "It's just her delivery, I think, that needs polish."

Gavin looked up from the paper, raising a questioning eyebrow. "I'm sorry, _who_, my dear?"

Olivia smirked at him. "No need to play coy. I know Roberta Mertens aggravates you to no end, Gavin."

Doran smiled a bit sheepishly. He sighed, straightening the newspaper as he folded it back to the business section. "I shouldn't be so transparent."

"No, you shouldn't," said Olivia, patting his arm and then resting her hand on his thigh. "But I do understand. After all, you and Jim have known each other for ages."

She gave his leg an affectionate squeeze, noting a muscle twitch in response. She could smell his sandalwood shower gel, the kind he only used at the racquet club (and she had been sure to remember to compliment him on it when she and Roberta returned from their mani/pedi appointment).

Gavin sighed again, shifting in his seat as her hand wandered to rest on his knee. "It's true though, Roberta means well and always has her husband's best interests at heart. It just seems to me that Jim is kept on a pretty short leash…"

"Perhaps he _likes_ being on a pretty short leash, sweetheart," Olivia commented innocently enough, but the cheeky raised eyebrow look she gave him was positively pornographic.

"_Olivia_," admonished Gavin, pretending to be scandalized but laughing softly. He shook his head, declining her offer of a sip from her water bottle. "No thank you, my dear. No, it's just something, I can't really explain."

Olivia sat back, closing her eyes in contentment as she felt the change in speed of the vehicle as Gerald maneuvered them through afternoon traffic, and she breathed out quietly. "She is a bit older than he… and you, darling."

Gavin chuckled and reached to squeeze and stroke her thigh, returning the favor from lunch when she'd kept her left hand in his lap most of the time. "Age is just a number, and the difference between you and I is a tad greater anyway." Olivia Doran had celebrated her forty-ninth birthday that previous spring.

"So it's an older woman with a younger man that bothers you… what's the term they use, a 'cougar'?"

Gavin chuckled again, sitting up to lean into her arm and he kissed her sensuously on the lips. "I am unbelievably lucky to have such a smart and beautiful woman as my lively and lovely partner in life," he told her, his attractive green eyes sparkling as they teased each other. "You've caught me out again."

"Hmph," Olivia retorted in amusement, reaching to caress the back of his head, encouraging him to kiss her once more. "Any meetings later today? I forgot to check your planner before we left the Drake."

Doran shook his head slightly, lifting back a lock of her hair that had fallen loose from its elastic band and tucking it behind an ear. "Not until later this evening."

"Good," she said, pushing the button to lower the privacy screen slightly between the passenger compartment and their driver. "Gerald, were you able to gas up as I asked?" Olivia removed her hair band, shaking out her tresses more comfortably.

The young man looked up into the rear-view mirror, nodding gravely. "Yes, ma'am. Exactly as you asked," he added with a smile. His voice had never really lost its Island-lilt, even though he had moved to New York City as a kindergartener.

"Thank you," replied Olivia, her tone approving. "You can take the long way home, please."

Gerald nodded, his dazzling white smile growing wider. "Yes, missus, the long way it is, then." The young man's Bermudan accent thickened slightly at Olivia's approval. "Your CDs are in the rack, ma'am."

Gavin looked at his wife curiously as she raised the privacy screen and set the locking controls on it, and the doors, with the keypad on her side of the compartment. She touched another set of buttons, and soft clarinet jazz played from the surround-sound speakers. Olivia lowered the volume a tiny bit.

"The 'long way home', Mrs. Doran? Are we headed to Maine or to Pennsylvania this afternoon?" asked Gavin, surrendering the newspaper to her grasp. Olivia turned slightly and reached down to remove her no-show sports socks, tucking them into her running shoes.

"Indeed, Mr. Doran. Or maybe even Canada," she purred, licking her lower lip. Olivia pushed up against the back of the seat and swung one leg over as she straddled Gavin's lap, pressing him down into the luxurious leather cushion. His hands moved of their own accord to cup and squeeze her firm buttocks, and she noticed that his pupils immediately darkened, a clear sign of his desire.

Olivia leaned down, gently thrusting her tongue into his mouth as she kissed him deeply for several heartbeats. He moaned against her lips when he tasted the Chardonnay spritzer she'd had at lunch. As his hands wandered over her hips to her narrow waist, pushing up the hem of her lightweight jacket, she purred again, grinding down hard against his crotch.

"What do you have in mind, my dear?" he whispered hoarsely against her cheek, as he placed tiny, nibbling kisses along her jawline. He cast a quick glance at the windows, covered, as they were with the duskiest possible—yet still legal, tinting.

Smiling seductively, she rose up on her knees, reaching to unzip his gunmetal gray fleece over-shirt about halfway. "Well, it's not our private bedroom at the Drake, but I'd like to take my time making love to you in the backseat of our car. That is, if you don't mind." Olivia wasn't into public displays of wantonness, not since her teenage years, but she knew they could not be seen from the outside of the sedan.

Gavin groaned involuntarily when she reached into his shirt, caressing his chest and drawing her nails delicately across both sensitive nipples. He exhaled a shaky breath. "I don't think I mind at all, Olivia." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"I am gratified to hear it, sweetheart," she said softly, leaning closer to kiss him again. As their lips parted open, she stroked the roof of his mouth with her tongue; much to her delight, Gavin groaned again, louder this time, and his strong hands squeezed her waist and buttocks, pressing her center to his body.

As their passions rose, and their kisses grew more urgent, he lifted her from his lap a fraction and slipped his right hand inside her velour slacks. Now it was she who moaned as he pleasured her intimately, gently stroking her warm, moist folds. Before reaching the point of no return, so to speak, she gripped his wrist and asked him to stop.

"Are you alright?" He carefully withdrew his hand, holding the damp fingers off to the side so as not to mark their clothing.

Biting her lower lip, she chuckled. "I am _more_ than alright, Gavin. But I want this to be about pleasing you." She smiled, kissing away his protest and scooting back atop his thighs to unfasten and unzip his trousers.

Without taking his eyes from hers, he raised his hand to his mouth and licked clean two of his fingers, deliberately tasting her. She kissed his cheek, sliding down to the floor to kneel between his legs.

"Everything about you is pleasing to me, my dear. I am yours," he told her in a husky voice as his hands tangled in her hair. "I love you, very, very much."

"I love you, Gavin," she said, scooping him out from the confines of his characteristically plain cotton boxer shorts and urging him to spread his legs wider, giving her elbowroom. Olivia grinned wickedly as she kissed the circumcised tip. "And I love this as well."

When her warm mouth surrounded him entirely, Gavin's eyes closed and he dropped his head back against the leather headrest. His hips reflexively bucked as another soft groan rumbled deep in his throat. Olivia smiled to herself as she watched his face, pleased that she could still surprise him after all these years.

"Oh my d...," he panted breathlessly. "Olivia..."

TBC

A/N: if you haven't found it yet, check out the "other" 666 Park Avenue fic here. My new friend Taylor and I are hoping you dear readers will get in the game too (hint, hint).


	4. Chapter 4

"**Greatest Treasure"**

A 666 Park Avenue fan-fic/AU

A/N: Although circumstances may change now that the network has decided not to continue our new program, the performances of TOQ and VW are far more convincing to me than any others on the show. They come across as being a "together couple" through thick and thin, although not always motivated out of the goodness of their hearts. We'll see. I have slightly modified/re-ordered the chain of events as we saw them in the last few episodes.

As we await the final episodes (not sure about the delay tactics by ABC), I think of this story as very, very Alternate Universe. No telling how much conflicting "show canon" information the writers will give us as we unfortunately approach the end after cancellation. I am having a hard time considering either Gavin or Olivia as evil all the way through; manipulative, yes to both, and very. It will be interesting to see how Sasha Doran/Laurel Harris is involved in the stories/history of the Drake.

Summary: For many different reasons, some spoken aloud and some not, Gavin Doran considers Olivia to be his greatest treasure. In the aftermath of the Drake's annual Halloween party, he has to decide how best to protect his wife from his enemies, and from himself.

Category: General/Romance

Rating: T for increasing sexual content (Plot? What plot?)

**Office supplies**

**Chapter 04/?**

Up in the afternoon quiet of the Drake's penthouse suite, Gavin sat in an antique armchair, his necktie loosened but his shirt still crisp, absently picking at a seam with his right index finger while he cradled his forehead in the other hand. He felt tears gathering and he sighed dolorously, a rare moment of self-doubt as he replayed the basement-conversation with Victor Shaw in his mind.

"_She found out about you, what sort of man you were," sneered a bruised and battered Shaw as blood trickled down his shirtfront from wounds to his mouth and nose. Tied hand and foot as he was to the old office chair, he couldn't move, and so he concentrated his voice on the attack of the man who sat so arrogantly before him. "You terrified her."_

_Terrified_. His own daughter had been terrified of him. _Sasha_.

He uncrossed and re-crossed his legs, switching to the other side as he shifted in his seat, and he heard the elevator open and shut in the nearby foyer. There was a shuffle of shopping bags and keys as Olivia stepped in, her high heels clicking on the polished tile of the entryway.

"Sweetheart?" she called, dropping her parcels from the day and undoing her gold-threaded overcoat; her footsteps now fell almost silently on the thick Berber carpeting. "What are you doing, darling?"

Olivia could not remember the last time she had seen her husband sitting in a somewhat darkened room like that, hiding in the gloom. Gavin Doran was not one to hide, from anyone or anything.

"Gavin, it's me," she said softly, noting that he barely moved, not looking up as his fingers nervously picked at a loose thread of the upholstery, lost in thought.

"I had a chat with Mr. Shaw," he said after a long pause, his throat gravelly in his sorrow. "He told me something that was quite disturbing."

Olivia felt like ice water had been poured down her back as she suddenly recalled when she had last seen Gavin sitting alone and troubled as he was now. It had been ten years ago, on the night that…

"Sweetheart? About what?" Olivia was hesitant but she already knew _what_ their conversation topic had to have been. She heard the tears in his voice.

"About our daughter."

"What about her?" Again, Olivia was hesitant and waited patiently for him to continue, hoping that her intuition was wrong. It most certainly was not. Her heart pounded in her throat as she felt a chill that raised gooseflesh up and down her bare arms.

"Victor Shaw is of the opinion that she didn't die in that car by accident," said Gavin softly. Sadly. "He thinks that she took her own life and he says that you know this. Is it true?"

He finally looked up, acknowledging her presence, and the rawness of his grief, of the wounds reopened after a long decade had passed, broke her heart. His eyes widened in disbelief as he watched her rather guilty reaction, and he stood, crossing slowly over to her.

"How do you know?" He felt betrayed by the one person he loved more than his own life.

Olivia clasped her hands together, pleading with herself or pleading with him to understand. "There was a note, from Sasha. I burned it, I'm sorry that I kept it from you." She swallowed, bracing herself for the next admission that she would now make.

"Gavin, she said some terrible things about you…" Now she gasped sharply as he grabbed her arms, suddenly very angry but still under control. He would not leave bruises but his grip on her elbows was firm.

"I don't need protecting!" He sharply emphasized each word, shaking her with each syllable. His eyes flashed dangerously and she watched his jaw muscles clench as he ground his teeth, fighting to keep his rare, volcanic temper in check.

"I know you don't…" A part of Olivia was fearful at that moment, remembering a man from her past and remembering his violent, aggressive, and abusive reactions. But Gavin was not this man. He had rescued her from him.

And banished him to a red box.

"She was my daughter too! How could you keep this from me?" he cried, his voice cracking as anguish overtook anger. "I had a right to know…"

Olivia reached for his shoulders, tears quickly gathering in her own eyes because she knew the depth of her husband's pain and of their shared loss. "Because I loved you and I don't apologize for that. I didn't want to see you get hurt. Gavin, she was gone." _Gone, a body burned beyond recognition in a black BMW two-door_.

She held his face in both of her hands, tenderly brushing away a tear that had fallen with her thumb. "Victor Shaw is using this to divide us. The most important thing is that we get that red box back." Olivia could be strong too and she could see that Gavin's mind was coming back to the issue at hand.

"He hit you with the _one_ thing you couldn't bear," she declared, knowing full well how true it was. "Return the favor." Olivia reached up to kiss him softly. She wanted Gavin to reclaim his power.

And Gavin had promised to protect her. Always. His breathing gradually calmed and he closed his eyes, relaxing as she held him, stroking his cheeks with her fingertips. He nodded, stepping closer and wrapping his warm arms around her.

"I will," he said, leaning down to kiss her hair, breathing in its floral fragrance. "I will."

Olivia nodded, tilting her face upwards and inviting him to kiss her. She snaked her arms around his waist, pressing her body against his and she delighted when he eased one thigh intimately between hers, pulling her closer as he kissed her mouth. Olivia groaned soundlessly as his hands possessed her buttocks and he held her tightly to himself.

"I promise, Olivia. I will," he said again. She felt his arousal, and his strength, and knew that he would do exactly that.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Gavin Doran slid the painting down, covering the electronic keypad panel of the safe, and he nodded with grim satisfaction. He had "returned the favor", tricking his enemy captive into revealing a secret, thereby allowing him to retrieve the very important red box.

It was a skill he didn't quite understand, and neither did he question it. Doran was able to appear to Victor Shaw as his long-dead father, Josef Luken, and learned the hiding place of the red box.

"_St. Thomas' Church," said Doran/Luken. "It's hidden at St. Thomas' Church. Thank you, Mr. Shaw."_

"_What did you say?" Shaw was delirious from dehydration and the after-effects of Kandinsky's not-so-tender pugilistic treatment of his face and body._

"_The red box," said Doran simply, appearing now as himself._

"_I was dreaming…"_

_Gavin chuckled at the man's obvious confusion, getting to his feet to leave as Shaw struggled impotently against his bonds when he realized he had just given himself away. "Doran! You son of a bitch!"_

Doran now compulsively shifted a small stack of manila folders, tidying up the business of the day. He turned to pour himself three-fingers of Scotch on the rocks, sitting back down and feeling better about the well-ordered world around him. He pointed a small remote control at the vertical blinds and drapes, opening his office window to expand the panoramic night view of his city.

_His_ New York City.

"That's better," he said to himself, sipping the single-malt and allowing its mixture of fire and ice to course down this throat.

"Gavin?" came Olivia's voice from the bedroom suite, and he heard her soft footfalls as she made her way through the foyer to his office.

"In here, my dear," he replied, pushing his chair back from the desk to make room as she came to him. He smiled up at her.

"All well?" She cast a nervous glance toward the painting that she knew covered the office safe.

Gavin took another sip of Scotch and nodded. "All is well, Olivia. I was able to get the red box this afternoon."

She sagged with relief. "Thank you, darling. Thank you." At his inviting gesture, she sat elegantly upon his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him.

"I keep my promises, my dear," he assured her, kissing her cheek and offering her his glass, which she sipped and then handed back. "Is this new?"

He grinned, rubbing the black satin of her robe in his fingertips. Olivia chuckled softly. "It is, to replace my other ruined robe."

"Ah, I see. I do apologize for that," he said, raising one eyebrow at her. "But I do not regret it."

Olivia smacked his shoulder half-heartedly, leaning in to kiss his mouth as she smiled. As Gavin deepened the kiss, his hand wandered to the open slit of her robe, feeling the soft, bare skin of her chest; he loved to feel the weight of her breasts in his palm. With his other hand roving as their tongues gently dueled, he realized that she wore absolutely nothing underneath the new black satin robe.

"Hold that thought," said Gavin abruptly, helping her to stand carefully as he got to his feet and stepped around to the front of his desk. She watched with amusement as he moved the Chambered Nautilus shell and its brass stand, placing it on top of a nearby bookcase. He returned to his office chair, encouraging her to sit in his lap again.

"Rearranging furniture, darling?" she enquired.

"Mm, no, strategic relocation is more accurate," he replied, kissing her once more. "I'd rather it not get broken while I am taking the pleasure of your beautiful body here in my office."

Olivia chuckled, feeling rising warmth from her core to her neck and face when his nimble fingers undid the sash at the front of her robe. She gasped when he reached in to explore the damp folds between her thighs. "Why Mr. Doran, are you saying that I am about to get laid on your desk?"

She shifted her legs, giving him better access and she felt a soft laugh rumble deeply in his chest. Gavin was still fully dressed in his slacks, shirt and tie, and here she was writhing wantonly in a new satin robe that hid nothing from his gaze.

"Oh yes, Mrs. Doran," he said as his fingers teased her relentlessly. "In fact, quite a few times if all goes to plan tonight." He could feel her panting as he kissed away any protestations and his hand stimulated her well on the way to her first orgasm.

Olivia gripped his shoulder and upper arm, holding on for dear life as she gasped and moaned in his lap. His fingers penetrated her deeply while his thumb exerted just the right amount of pressure and friction elsewhere. She quickly lost all coherent thought as her body reacted to his loving attention. Her head fell back as she gasped and Gavin continued to kiss her neck and her shoulder, whispering encouragement in her ear as she fell farther and farther into her bliss.

"Gavin! Oh!" she cried, shuddering against him as she begged him not to stop. He himself struggled for control when his hand at last filled with very wet evidence of her powerful orgasm, and her muscles clenched tightly around his fingers.

Beads of sweat rolled down her neck and she leaned her forehead against his chest. Slowly her breathing returned to normal, coming back to her senses and she felt his warm lips and tongue on her skin. Gavin carefully withdrew his hand and brought it to his mouth for a tiny, sensual taste.

"You are delicious, my dear," he told her. "And I love how you come for me."

Olivia laughed breathily, getting to her feet despite still wobbly knees. "How can I not? I love what you do to me."

Gavin's eyes sparkled as he looked lovingly up at her face, leaning in to kiss her belly button. "So delicious." He stood, cupping the back of her head as he kissed her again. "Ready for more?"

Her eyes widened at his wolfish smile and he turned her around, encouraging her to lean forward over the top of his desk. She felt a cushion as he tucked it underneath her tummy, for her comfort against the cold glass covering, and she heard him lower the zipper of his trousers after the rolling chair squeaked back several feet.

"Why Mr. Doran, you weren't kidding…" she teased as he probed and then slowly penetrated her from behind. She purred with pleasure as he stroked, in and out, her hands automatically reaching out to grasp the far edge of the desk.

"No, darling, I would never kid about something like this," he said quietly, gripping her hip and pulling her to his core. He chuckled, one hand massaging her bare buttocks under the hem of her robe as he moved slowly to their favorite rhythm. "So delicious."

TBC


End file.
